


Payoff

by IwriteDreams



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Danganronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Ew, Fluff, M/M, This was a thing that tumblr refused to work with me for, send help, so i needed to post it here first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:23:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwriteDreams/pseuds/IwriteDreams
Summary: For a very great person, @Aliencancer.... im so sorry. I turned my chormebook into the district,  Tumblr mobile is trash...





	Payoff

The street is ablaze with movement in grey. Black and white cars, glaring white lights, no color. The only color Nagito’s eyes can really see are in the people, moving along the crowded sidewalks as one in a dappled, mismatched quilt of dusty reds and blues, greens and oranges. Bobbing heads as people move along, like dozens of schools of mindless fish swimming with and against the current. The tapping of feet, and the static chatter fill the streets as bulletin boards dance with lights to grab their attention, advertising this and that. The cold wind dampens the surrounding atmosphere, keeping all of the focus down on the ground and between chilly breezes. Streetsides flicker with walk signs, and the roads are filled with cold-shouldered taxi drivers, pressing down on their horns with no reason to be cheery. Nagito couldn’t see the sky behind the blanket of clouds. 

He’d scoped out the city, high and low, year after year. It was the same as all the rest of the famous cities in in any other country. Hinged on business, money, and a massive population. A little bit of distinction usually correlated to slightly shameful human habits. Lust, spending, media, and all the rest had the appeal of a white smudged chalkboard. Something that once was there, wiped away to make something new, and illegible and impervious to time and change. The most important thing about the town however, isn’t what is there. It’s who had been there. 

It’s Kamakura’s home city. 

Nagito had been looking for him, tirelessly, up and down, day and night for years. The hole where a hobby should be. An occupation of any kind. He’d taken to wandering the streets, purposefully causing himself misfortune, in the high hopes that his good luck would bless him with having found the man. All his luck had managed to scrounge him up so far was enough loose change, and abandoned meals to keep himself living, and let him sneak into motels without getting caught. After a long time, he wandered into Rauvala city, where he vaguely remembered something.

He hadn’t thought of it in a long time, muddled in the madness of brain surgery, and his concussions and other unlucky misfortunes… He can’t even place a thin, pale fingertip on when it happened. 

All he can see, all he can etch out from the depths of his mind is Kamakura above him, Nagito resting a tired head on his lap, perhaps with shackles around his hands from being a servant, fingers through his hair, and that quiet, slightly intoxicating voice that demanded all the attention you could give with its passive beckon and slight lisp. 

“My home town is Rauvala city. If you can’t find me… I’d check there.”

“You say that like you’re expecting to disappear.” He’d said, closed eyes, feeling the light tangles in his hair pull, before they came loose.

 

“Who knows? Anything could happen.”

Nagito smiled. “... And wouldn’t that be interesting?”

 

The moment he saw the street signs, it became clear to him. This was where he would reside, until the day Kamakura came back, until the day their fates would reconnect again in the hometown that Nagito had never seen before. Every street four lanes across, every ‘home’ an apartment or a mansion with no inbetweens. People screaming their beliefs at the top of their lungs, the heavy smell of sweet smoke from the casinos, his steps over the clattering pavement. Kamakura always wanted something interesting, and Nagito couldn’t decide if this place was full of interest, or completely void of it. 

He glances through the crowds, the waves of people. He had stayed put in this sad, dreary place for nine months, resting from the constant change of place to settle here, where he intended to remain until he saw him again. 

His ‘friends’ were getting restless. 

“Past Class from Hell”

Sonia, Imposter, Hell man, Gangster, Pe... and 10 others

Mikan: Nagito, please tell us if you’re coming to Eric’s Pub tonight at 8. We’d love to see you!

Sonia: We so would! I haven't seen you in such a long time… ;’(

Hell man: My Princess, what are those at the end of your message?

Sonia: I’ve recently discovered a common mannerism in texting that’s culturally important, they are called emoji! And whilst I find the icon versions convenient, I do so love the one you can type out. :D

Hell man: Be careful that you do not curse yourself through exposure to these sacred runes... ;b

Sonia: You did it! <3

Hell man: What’s that?

Sonia: It’s a heart, because I love all of my classmates

Sonia: <3 <3 <3

Peko: Back to Mikan’s question, has anybody heard if Nagito is coming?

Sonia: Peko, do you not return my love?

Peko: <3

Peko: There, now can I please have an answer?

Sonia: I haven't heard from him, no.

Gangster: I think he’s still looking for that creepy guy.

Sonia: No <3’s from you too?

Gangster: Not for you.

Sonia: Who, if not me?

Peko: Hello, Fuyuhiko. <3

Gangster: Hey <3

Sonia: Of course.

[ ( Enter your message… ) ]

 

Nagito looked down discontentedly. Fuyuhiko was rightt- well, half-right, anyways. Mikan of all people should understand what love could do to you. He was going to find Kamakura if he had to search for the rest of time. He didn’t have the time to waste on stupid things like that. He needed to be wandering the streets he had long grown sick of seeing.

He typed out a short “I won’t be there” and hit send, unwilling to look away from the streets. Every moment he looked away is another he could miss him.

He decides that he’s going to walk as far as the north side of town, checking all the restaurants as he goes, before turning to the west side streets, and looping around. Then he would go back, and come out with another plan of action. He does this every day, and his only sign of progress is seeing different faces in the crowd. Seeing a couple different people a week is his only proof that new people do actually come, and even then he can’t be sure that they really are new in town, just that he sees them once or twice now, where he hadn’t at all before. 

He studies the people, promising himself the same thing for years. You’ll know him when you see him. Which, should be realistic. If the feet of long, black hair didn’t give it away, the face, and the red eyes, and suit certainly would. He was a tad hard to miss.

Long black hair, red eyes, a suit, a shadowy figure. 

Nagito freezes, eyes completely lost in the midday traffic, and everything falls quiet.

Black hair, red eyes, suit, shadowy.

Black, red, suit, shadow.

“Kama… Kamakura?”

Red eyes stare dully out from behind the window of a black taxi car, tangled hair falling across his face, cheek pushed up by his hand. He’s not looking at the streets anymore past then, and Nagito can almost feel the smoothness of his skin under his fingers now- “Kamakura!”

Nagito bolts straight into the street, into the oncoming traffic. He can see Kamakura, after years of searching. If a car hits him now, and he dies, he’s dying happily. 

He’s in the middle of the road, and car headed for him screeches to a halt to his left, blearing the horn as Nagito skids out of the way. 

Kamakura hasn't seen him, and suddenly the light turns and the car starts rolling away from him, in the streets with nobody around. People on the streets stare at him in shock, and Nagito scrambles, weaving through hurtling cars to the opposite sidewalk. His feet are pounding at the pavement almost as hard as his chest is pounding.He tastes the musky smell of heat in his throat, and he’s unable to draw a successful breath, everything around him a chaotic blur as his feat slam down in rhythm, and he’s chasing the taxi faster than he’s ever run before in his life. His jacket falls slowly in the wind behind him, stuck in his past as he clambers to the proper sidewalk, people crying out in as he shoves them out of the way when they can’t move fast enough. Some drivers swear at him, screaming out of their windows, but it’s not fast enough, and Nagito can’t care. 

He’s hyperfocused, honed in on the car bumper ahead of him in the lane next to his own as he speeds through the blurry faces of the people. He knows Kamakura is facing the other way, and that he doesn’t see him. The car is moving too fast. He puts on another impossible burst of speed, and he had no idea that his legs could ever carry him this far, that fast. 

He knocks over a man wheeling around a crate of glass cans, shattering on the ground. He feels bad, but he can’t pay attention because Kamakura is so close- He’s losing sight of the car slightly in the crowd, and he hears enraged howls behind him. His heart is racing, and he aches all over already. Then he reminds himself in a split second that he only has to run like this once and he needs to keep up. 

He can feel people behind him start to give chase. They chase him as he chases after a taxi on the road that he’s afraid he’ll lose sight of when they turn a corner, and he just needs Izuru to spot him and it would all be okay!

What if Izuru is leaving town? What if he fails now and he’ll never see him again? What is he doing trying to find him, there are 7 billion people in the world- what are the odds of finding him again, go go go!

He isn’t going to fail now. He ignores the burning of his lungs, and the firecrackers shooting up the tendons in his legs as he bounds forward. The car is already a block ahead of him.

Thankfully, he thinks it hits another light. He can’t be sure, he thinks he’s had his gaze trained on the same Taxi but they all look the same, and the license plate illegible this far behind, he can’t be sure. All he needs is Kamakura to look over here, please look over!

He then realises this might just be his luck. He sees Kamakura, but then he’s lost again forever, and Nagito spends the rest of his days searching for the man of his dreams after he ran off after a strawberry blonde woman for something more interesting. Sounds like something he would be subjected to, a little too probable.

He can tell that it’s about fifteen seconds more before the people stop giving chase, because nobody can keep up with him, and turning his head to yell an apology to that man is wasting precious milliseconds.

He’s almost caught up again when the light turns green, and it’s speeding away again. Nagito faintly feels like his soul will evaporate out of his mouth. He’s never exerted himself quite like this. 

It then occurs to him that all this running is only bringing him closer to the grave he was supposed to come to seven months ago. Seven months ago was when he surpassed his maximum life expectancy from his cancer and dementia. Thank his luck, but at the same time, can you ever thank the luck that relied solely on misfortune in the first place?

It’s ten feet ahead of him… now twenty… twenty five, thirty… fourty feet away, speeding towards the next light with Nagito rocketing after it. 

Then it’s lights turn on, and it turns a corner. 

Nagito would’ve gasped “NO” or at least “DAMMIT!” But he doesn’t have the energy or breath. Still, the shadow of doubt of ever finding him drowns him more than it ever has as his eyes follow it turning on his side of the street, and despite all this effort, the run of his life, and all his need and motivation to do this he seems to be slowing down. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes at that sheer despair. He couldn’t lose him now… but it appeared he was going to anyways.

The car was out of sight now, and even if the car hadn’t moved an inch after it’s bend, it would be impossible to find it in the sea of duplicate taxis, and he couldn't see him from this side of the road. 

Game over. 

Yet he clung to hope. Stubbornly, and probably in vain. He kept running, a wild goose chase for a lost cause, bounding towards the corner, growling, and ready to burst into tears. Fuck his fortune, fuck his cruel damn luck.This wasn't okay, not in the slightest.

He might not…

Might not…

Nagito’s feet are suddenly lead anchors, pulling his entire stature downwards into the sidewalk with every buckling movement forward, and his steps get heavier and heavier still.

He stops. There’s no hope of catching it.

He doesn’t break down, not completely. His feet are still carrying him towards the corner, he’s almost there, and it’s spite. Maybe he’ll get lucky.

He’s ready to burst into tears and scream, or jump into the traffic again, praying a car kills him. It can’t end like this. Not now. 

He’s ready to melt into a soggy puddle that gathers between the cracks of the sidewalk, under a hundred feet, people swarming around him. As he slowly moves forward, he risks a glance back, and realises how far he’s come. The people who hounded him, who wanted him dead are so far behind him now.

He’s rounding the bend without really thinking about it, head filled to the brim with the shaky images of good fortune and death, and his heart filled with a mysterious shadowy figure with red eyes. 

It’s not like it’s a tangible dream anymore anyways. 

He turns the corner, eyes studying the sidewalk, before scanning upwards and around at the cars about him just in case, he never knows what could happen-

“Kamakura!”

Nagito can’t believe his eyes. This is wishful, not real, impossible in every way, but his legs won’t wait for his brain to come with a conclusion. In his heart's eye, it’s undeniable. Kamakura holds a cup of coffee at an outdoor table in front of a coffee shop, a second cup waiting for him, and he’s running again, running even farther, fuck, if he dies now, he doesn’t care. Kamakura’s looking at him, a smile on his lips, that never happens-

He can’t care how it feels, running like that, he feels like he’s flying. He can’t be bothered with anything.

Kamakura really is there. There’s no way, no way probable in this cold world that Nagito’s imagination can fool him into seeing him in that much detail, stray strands of hair flurrying in perfect realism, he really is there, and a couple hundred feet away. So close.

“Kamakura!” He cries again, and Kamakura smiles more for him. It’s easily one of the greatest things he’s ever seen. He doesn’t get a response, but he does get that flicker of his gaze that lets him know that he is probably as happy as he is. 

And suddenly he’s barreling into Kamakura’s arms. He doesn’t throw him off balance quite, but he can’t even bring himself to think about it when he feels Kamakura’s arms wrapped around him, swinging him about, clutching him in a vice. Kamakura’s real, warm grip, tightly holding him close. Hair is swirling about them, Nagito wants to stay there forever. 

He’s crying now, finally crying. Kamakura has both arms wrapped around him and Nagito whispers,“I can’t believe I found you…” 

Because he really can’t.

“If it isn’t the most interesting person to grace my life…” He murmurs to him, and Nagito can feel him pressing kisses to his forehead.

“I love you.” It’s all he can muster up. Not, “I was searching for you for so long”, not “I missed you.”

“I love you too.” Kamakura’s hands are pushing through his hair, brushing everything out of the way again, then again. Nagito buries his face into Kamakura’s warm, live shoulder, surrounded by his hair and arms. His heart filling up with the mysterious shadowy man. It’s too good to be true. 

Reading his mind, Kamakura quietly starts to remind him. “I’m here. I’m right here, and you found me… Hey, hey, don’t cry. It was only a matter of time… I needed to find you.”

Nagito nodded, feeling Kamatuka start kissing his head again. “I know, I know… I needed to find you too.”

“I love you” Kamakura is repeating the sentiment again and again. “I needed you, I missed you.”

Nagito is beyond it, his head is swimming so much. 

“I can’t believe…”

“Believe it.” 

Nagito feels a cup of coffee being pushed into his hands, and Kamakura releases him. “Take it.” Kamakura blinked. “You look like you need it.”

Nagito took it without a word. Kamakura didn’t need to hear that all he really needed was him, and him alone.


End file.
